


the starry night

by irritable



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Memory Loss, Post-Season/Series 02, implied depression, ish, read notes for more details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5645440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irritable/pseuds/irritable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Bellamy Blake has memory loss.</em><br/> <br/><em>Raven Reyes starts feeling again.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	the starry night

**Author's Note:**

> for succubitches on tumblr  
> filling the memory loss prompt! not sure if this is what you wanted, i'm sorry, but whelp i tried.
> 
> important:  
> \- this is raven-centric  
> \- the depression tag is for the beginning where raven closes off  
> \- unedited

 

* * *

 

_"I OFTEN THINK THAT THE NIGHT IS MORE ALIVE AND MORE RICHLY COLORED THAN THE DAY."_

_// VINCENT VAN GOGH_

 

* * *

 

Raven hasn’t felt a whole lot of things since the mountain.

 

Since she’s started carrying around a cane due to the aching discomfort she feels when she steps down the wrong way or her weight sways left.

 

The point is, she can’t offer emotional support to _Wick_.

 

She’d tried, of course she did. She didn’t ask for the emptiness in her stomach, didn’t ask to feel nothing but nonchalance since she got cut open like a sick science experiment. She didn’t _ask_ for _any_ of this to happen.

 

Wick doesn’t understand though.

He expects things from her and wants and want; so he takes and takes, until Raven’s had enough. Until Raven tells him to _fuck off_ and to leave her the fuck alone _permanently_ , because she’s tried to love after Finn, and she’s tried to care, but it’s not happening.

 

Her mind refuses her the relief of emotions when there’s the possibility it could be dumped right back in her face.

 

So, he stops.

 

And she stops too.

 

They don’t speak again aside from strained pleasantries and when they’re both muttering like mad scientists over oil and metal and blueprints.

 

\---

 

Octavia Blake is an asshole, but she speaks the truth when she stands with her shoulders back, muscles stiff, and says to her, “Wake _up_ ,” like it's a command. “We _need_ you, Raven. We need your _skills_. Clarke may be gone, but I’m here. Bell is here, Monty is here, Miller is here. _We_ are here.”

 

Raven gives her a blank look.

 

“I’ll fix the radios, Octavia,” she says firmly, frustration clear on her face. “Get out of my way.”

 

“We’re here, Raven,” Octavia says again. “And we need you here too.”

 

Raven says nothing as Octavia sighs and walks away.

 

She has nothing to say.

 

\---

 

Sometimes she _does_ feel.

 

It’s mostly pain – big surprise there.

 

Sometimes it’s an overwhelming and stifling sense of loss, despair, and melancholy that she chokes on.

 

Rarely, it’s a warm rush of peace.

 

Mostly pain, still.

 

Her leg aches from supporting her weight, and the other aches, because the brace is fucking painful and her brain hurts from thinking too hard about it. About her loss. About a smug asshole who shot her and crippled her. About shooting said smug asshole in the face.

 

When it’s the second one; when her eyes prick with unwanted tears and a frown dips the corners of her lips, she’ll limp and hobble her way around back to the opposite end of her tent.

 

She’ll sit at the base where one of the poles hold up the tent and stare past the electrical fence at the trees.

 

There’s actually several feet of space between the back of her tent and the fence, so when the patrol moves on, she’ll make the length from the tent to the fence and back, rinse and repeat.

 

When the patrol passes by again or when she gets too tired, she returns to the back of the tent, she sits down, easing her legs off the tension and allows her body to wash the pain away with time.

 

She uses the time to think and other times, she uses it to _not think_. She drinks the moonshine she takes off Monty and she rips grass out the ground as she scowls at the trees just outside her reach.

 

Fucking Earth.

 

And when calm takes her body to a stage of pleasant numbness, she lies on her bed, staring at the faded red material of the tent – at the dull rays that reaches through the roof from the sun.

 

But that rarely happens, and she’s thankful for it.

 

Restrained anger is better than blissful armistice in the world she lives in.

 

\---

 

After the encounter with Octavia, she actively starts to avoid whoever was left of the 100.

 

She eats lunch in the workshop while looking over plans or fiddling with gadgets in between stabbing roasted meat on flimsy forks.

 

It’s a dreary routine of get up, eat breakfast in her tent, work, eat lunch, work, dinner behind her tent, elongated bouts of time spent brooding, washing up, and sleep.

 

She misses out on gossip and when things happen, she remains unaware. She's fine with it, so she sees no reason to change. 

 

It’s boring, sure, but she can deal with boring.

 

\---

 

In the dead of the night sometime during fall, her mind is too loud for her to sleep.

 

She straps her brace on and strides out and around the tent to the back as best she can. She falls to a crouch and then to her ass, the dirt no doubt staining her pants.

 

Her eyes wander up past the trees, past the mountains, crawling higher up the sky to where the wild array of stars await her.

 

She misses the ark, well, the ark when it was in the sky. She’d never thought she’d have _that_ flying through her head a year ago, but times change, her leg’s a bust and the Earth’s just one big disappointment followed in quick succession by more disappointments.

 

A ruckus at the gate startles her before she can get any more retrospective.

 

“Quick!” comes a holler from the gates. “Call the chancellor! Hurry up! Come on!”

 

She allows her shoulders to droop again and her head to loll back to brush against the surface of her tent before she blows out a sigh and clambers to her feet.

 

There’s a crowd of guards buzzing around and slowly waking the entire camp up with their loud shouting.

 

Raven would normally find herself annoyed if she weren’t so curious.

 

“Bring him in!” the man, who she recognizes to be Nathan Miller’s dad, shouts to the guards outside of the gates. “Hurry! In there. Yes. C’mon, let’s go!”

 

The crowd parts in rapid speed, allowing six men to march in a crude stretcher with a figure sprawled on it.

 

Curiosity killed the cat. 

 

But before Raven can shuffle back into her tent to completely disregard this event (lots of people get injured, she doesn’t know what people expect out of this wretched planet), a cry of outrage sounds and has her neck craning back around.

 

“Bell? _Bellamy_!”

 

That is all it takes for Raven to change direction, drawing nearer to the crowd.

 

Octavia violently shoves by guards who attempt to stop her from following her brother into the makeshift medical bay.

 

It’s harder for her, obviously, but she manages with a few swings of her cane and a fierce snarl she directs at anyone who tries to stop her from trailing after the small group with Octavia that consists of Monty, Miller, and Lincoln.

 

They’re all stopped by Abby before they can make their way into the room where she’s supposed to assess Bellamy’s injuries and fix him up.

 

So they make themselves comfortable against the dull metal structure of the fallen station.

 

No one comments on why Raven is there.

 

No one acknowledges her.

 

They barely interact with each other, so she takes it in stride and taps her cane distractedly to pass the time.

 

She doesn’t even know why she’s here – probably out of obligation, because she may not have been on the drop ship when it first landed, but she’s one of them and she’ll stick with them as best she can even if it’s as tense and awkward as it is now. 

 

Octavia paces outside the door, the heavy stomps keeping her alert, and Lincoln watches from where he leans in a corner. Monty’s quietly murmuring to Miller where they’re both seated on the floor.

 

God, this is why she misses space. This is why she misses her life before Earth.

 

What had they become?

 

Octavia’s dressed from head-to-toe in Grounder garb, Monty’s eyes that were once sparking with unbridled mischief is clogged with concern, and Miller’s fingers are constantly twisting the hem of his shirt as his eyes dart from left to right; Raven to Lincoln.

 

The Earth fucking _destroyed_ these kids.

 

Hell, look at Raven. In the short time they’ve been here, she’s been cheated on, had the only family she'd known killed, took a bullet to her leg and had a drill dig through her flesh.

 

Thank you, universe, you’re doing a great job.

 

She allows her eyebrows to sink further down as she chews at her lip.

 

This’ll be a long night.

 

Octavia halts abruptly.

 

A moment later, there’s a body beside Raven and they sit in silence, shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

 

\---

 

She wakes. Her leg hurts like a bitch and there are more people milling around now.

 

Everyone from last night is gone, until Octavia pushes through the doors and meets Raven’s eyes.

 

“He’s inside,” she tells Raven, but there’s something off in the way she says it. Like she’s about to cry. “He’s awake now. You can go in.”

 

Raven nods. “Thank you.”

 

Then, Octavia’s giving her shoulder a gently squeeze and she’s trudging away, leaving Raven to stare at the door.

 

She gathers the courage.

 

After all, it’s been a long time since she’d talked to Bellamy. The last time was probably the angry confrontation a week after Clarke had walked out – oh, and _that’s_ an _entire_ different thing to rant about.

 

But the last time Bellamy had said anything to Raven was when she had begun to close into herself, when she’d chosen to shut down instead of self-destruct.

 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he had asked after an uneventful dinner from the flaps of her tent.

 

“I don’t know,” she’d replied. It was truthful, but it was clearly the wrong answer seeing as after that day, they didn’t speak to each other again.

 

So, Raven gathers her courage and before she can chicken out, she heads in.

 

\---

 

“What is _wrong with you, Raven_?”

 

“Gee, you're really repetitive today. What do you want?”

 

Bellamy storms in, leaving the entrance to flap in the air behind him. “I want clarification. I want a sign, _any_ indication that you’re okay and that you’re not dead.”

 

“Well, here it is.” Raven scowls from where she’s sitting on her bed. “I’m alive. There you go.”

 

“Come on, Raven,” he says in that disbelieving way she hates. It’s condescending and _annoying_.

 

So she allows herself to be angry at him, instead of herself. “What do you _want_ from me? You don’t have to _care_. Leave me alone.”

 

Bellamy’s face contorts into something ugly. “I _do_ care. I don’t need anyone to tell me that. Bugging you has nothing to do with this.”

 

“What _does_ this have to do with? What’s with the sudden angry intervention? Did you draw the short straw?”

 

“It has everything to do with _you_ ,” he hisses, eyes narrowed and everything. “We’re here for you, Raven. We’ve all noticed that you’ve been a little out of it lately, so don’t even _pretend_.”

 

Raven’s knuckles turn white from gripping the edge of the bed too tightly and her eyes are cold and heavy against his. “So I’m supposed to be happy when my only family is in ashes, my leg’s eaten up a scrap of metal, and there’s been two groups of bat shit cult followers trying to dig a fucking _hole_ through my body, one for some twisted version of revenge and one for bone marrow?”

 

“ _No._ ” He’s both frustrated and angry now, and Raven feels a sense of accomplishment. “But we’ve _all_ been through stuff down here. Not as bad as you, but we’re sticking together. We’re trying to _help_ here, Raven.”

 

“You’re doing fuck all to help,” she snarls out. “You, Octavia, and the rest. Just leave me the fuck alone. I’m dealing with this.”

 

“You don’t have to do it alone! You don’t have to push us away. You need us and we need you.”

 

Raven narrows her eyes. “No,” she growls. “You’ve got that wrong, Bellamy Blake, I don’t need you.”

 

He’s silent for a while, a beat passes, and suddenly he’s rearranging his face into a vacant stare. “If that’s the way it is, don’t let your bitterness and your loneliness get in the way of your job.”

 

Right. Sure. Raven’s nose twitches and her glare only deepens. “Like you?”

 

Bellamy glowers at her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“You’re a good example to follow, huh? You let your personal matters get in the way of your job. Got your sister in jail. _Shot_ a man to get down here.” She lets out a sardonic laugh. “Bet you regret it now. Earth’s not what it was cut out to be.”

 

His fists are balled by his side and his eyes are shut as his jaw clenches and unclenches.

 

She takes his silence as a cue to keep on going, so she snorts before she says, “You know what? This is all because deep down – deep, _deep_ down inside you, Bellamy, you only care about Octavia. You only care about your little sister who’s all grown up now, who doesn’t need you anymore. So stop projecting. Stop pretending you care about _me_.”

 

“Fuck you,” he says. “I do fucking care.”

 

“Of course. Of course you do,” she states like she doesn’t believe him. “It’s just that _I_ don’t care.”

 

And that’s all it takes for her to obtain her goal.

 

Bellamy gives her a heated look, before he leaves.

 

The only sign he was ever there is the entrance fluttering in the cool night air he leaves behind him.

 

\---

 

Bellamy’s staring out the window when she walks in, the sharp smell of blood and alcohol immediately pricks her senses. She winces.

 

His hair is pulled from his forehead where a bandage is tightly wrapped around, his left arm and leg are in a cast, and his right hand is bandaged.

 

“You look great,” she starts, which really isn’t a good opener as it comes out all sarcastic and biting.

 

He snaps his head around and his eyes widen slightly as he takes her in.

 

She smiles awkwardly and shuffles closer to the bed. “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” he says, unsure and awkward, like a question.

 

They lapse into a tense silence, filled with the routine beeping of the machinery and Bellamy’s labored breathing.

 

“Listen,” she begins again. “I’m sorry. Y’know, about the fight we had last time we talked.”

 

He stares at her.

 

“Um.” She shifts uncomfortably and her hands hover uneasily over the edge of the propped up mattress before she exhales and just drops them onto the mattress with a huff. “And you were right. You were right, Bellamy Blake, I _do_ need you.”

 

Bellamy opens his mouth before he closes it again, gaping like a fish.

 

Raven grimaces. “Are you going to say something or what?”

 

“Who the _fuck_ are you?”

 

Wow. Okay.

 

Raven looks up with probably a very stupid look on her face. “ _What_? Are you high on morphine or something? Do those assholes have fucking morphine now?”

 

Bellamy clears his throat. “Abby Griffin said I suffered from a severe head trauma that’s made me lose some of my memory. She also said that we’re on earth. My ribs are cracked, my left leg and arm are broken, and my other hand has a deep cut in it.”

 

_What the fuck?_

 

Bellamy smirks. “Were we fucking or something?”

 

\---

 

She’d left the room after that.

 

Hadn’t gone back.

 

It’s difficult to process, really.

 

Lately, a sense of dread had made its home at the pit of Raven’s stomach and it weighs Raven down whenever she moves to visit him again.

 

It’s easy how she eases herself back into her routine.

 

Octavia doesn’t go out of her way speak to her, meaning the rest don’t either, and she doesn’t bother seeking it out.

 

Days pass and she hears a guard talking about Bellamy being released as they wait for Raven to fix up their radios (which is _just_ a battery thing, not that hard, people).

 

Nothing big happens.

 

Raven assumes he’s been filled in on what’s happened so far and he’s probably begun to familiarize himself with the camp. Earth hasn’t always been downsides though, she remembers the first time she landed.

 

Sure, she was either bleeding or bruising in about ten different places and the air was thick with smoke, but once she’d gotten cleaned up and away from what was left of the pod, she was hit by the warm scent of nature and the feel of damp air against her skin.

 

It had felt like home.

 

Of course, shit hit the fan within two seconds and the next thing she knows she’s grouching around the place with a bum leg and a bummer attitude.

 

Nothing good ever stays, so she’s just waiting for Bellamy to see a giant gorilla or spot a rabid reaper left over from the mountain.

 

Waiting for realization to dawn on his face when Earth throws it all right at his face.

 

It doesn’t come in the next week, or the one after that.

 

And Raven eventually stops sneaking glances up at him while in the lunch line.

 

\---

 

The nights grow colder and colder as winter draws near.

 

Clarke’s still gone, which is okay with Raven, she’d have tried to do what Bellamy had done before he forgot – try to get through to Raven.

 

She doesn’t need that.

 

She needs space, which is what she gets despite the cold.

 

She brings a short, sturdy stool out now, which she pushes into the dirt before plopping down and arching her neck up to glance at the stars. Her good leg is at a 90°, propping her elbow so she can rest her chin in the palm of her hand, and the other is relaxed against the dirt with a slightly bent knee.

 

It’s actually relaxing once she gets used to the wind that bites her skin.

 

She burrows into her red jacket, the scenery calms her. Trees shivering with her, rooted to the ground, but reaching for the stars still.

 

“Y’know about Orion’s?”

 

And she jerks forward, hand instinctively reaching for her cane.

 

Okay, it’s peaceful and also it would have been very fucking  _creepy_ if it weren’t for the patrol that marches by every thirty minutes, which only does so much to help.

 

Bellamy stupid fucking Blake raises an eyebrow with a smirk as she scoffs and lets her muscles ease.

 

“Sure, I know Orion’s,” she says after her heart dislodges from her throat and falls back to normal beating. “Asshole,” she adds.

 

He moves to stand by her, close enough so that the heat from his body reaches for her right shoulder and seeps through her entire body.

 

When she looks at him, he’s staring up at the sky, so she turns her attention back to the sky.

 

“Well, _Raven_ ,” he says like knowing her name is something significant, “ _I_ don’t know Orion’s. Point it out.”

 

She scoffs again before she acquiesces to his demand.

 

Her fingers reach forward, almost like she wants to touch the stars, but instead traces out the rough outline of Orion.

 

Beside her, Bellamy crouches down to level himself with her awkwardly to accommodate with his broken leg before sitting down on the grass and trailing his eyes after her finger.

 

“It’s the hourglass shaped constellation,” she murmurs to him over the sounds of the whispers from camp and the forest in front of them. “People use it to find other constellations, so there’s Taurus and there’s Gemini.”

 

As she speaks, she outlines the constellations, reciting the fun facts section of the textbooks from back on the Ark she had burned into her memory.

 

Bellamy listens attentively, hand tapping idly on his leg cast.

 

She stops at Phoenix, trailing off and letting her hand drop down to her side.

 

Ambient sounds drift aimlessly through the harsh air and the light she’s got in her tent illuminates the back of both their heads.

 

He almost looks like an angel, but she knows him and he’s sort of an asshole.

 

“Is that all you know about the stars?” asks Bellamy all drawly and smug. Raven sort of wants him to leave now. Her leg’s aching, her skin feels like ice, and her body is shivering so hard, she’s almost afraid she’ll knock over the tent behind her.

 

So, she says, “No,” tersely, and pushes up onto her feet.

 

She glances back as she rounds the tent with the stool under her arm and Bellamy watches her right back.

 

He smirks. “Good night,” he says.

 

And she ignores him.

 

\---

 

Life goes on.

 

Her day proceeds normally after she wakes up and pulls on layers of ragged clothing to ward off the cold.

 

However, she’s not remotely surprised to find Bellamy marching – more hopping than actual walking – towards her with a stool clamped under his good arm, pressed between the side of his torso and his tricep.

 

It hadn’t taken her long to realize Bellamy Blake was one of those types who read pretentious old books that were the home to many a dust bunny and had poetic thoughts on stars light-years away. She rolls her eyes at him.

 

He ignores her as he wedges his seat with some difficulty into the ground beside hers and sends her his customary cocky smirk. “Remember any constellations for me?”

 

Raven snorts. “Not this time, your majesty.”

 

Bellamy frowns a bit, easing back on the stool to gaze at the stars – she thinks it’s just because he has nothing else to look at.

 

“‘Your majesty?’” he asks after a while.

 

She sighs, side eyeing him before taking a deep breath and spilling everything she can remember from back when they were in the drop ship.

 

He asks about Clarke next, which she covers as fast as she can, because that’s still a sore spot.

 

He asks about the mountain, which she doesn’t say anything to.

 

The silence that comes after that is tense and Raven grits her teeth through it.

 

“I remember once,” he says, to which she raises her eyebrow, but he continues, “Back on the ark, I used to find really old books at the back of the shelves, so I could smuggle them back and read Octavia stories through the floors. I’d tell anyone who came in that I was just reading aloud.”

 

Bellamy’s only talking to fill the silence now, but that’s better than talking about the mountain or the memories that comes with it.

 

God. It’s funny how she’s the one who wants to forget everything, but it’s Bellamy goddamn Blake that gets the gracious chance to forget everything he’d done.

 

Raven glances over when he pauses. He’s still inspecting the stars that dust across the large expanse of black that’s the sky and poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

 

“Tell me a story.”

 

“Yeah?” he sounds surprised, turns his head to jerk both eyebrows up at her even.

 

She feels a smile pull at the corner of her lips. “Yeah.”

 

He spends a few seconds scrambling to remember a story, then, “There was a monster. It lived in the sea and every year, it would come out…”

 

She listens.

 

He speaks.

 

\---

 

She slowly finds herself drifting back into the lives of the remaining 100. _Really_ slowly.

 

It starts with Bellamy watching the stars with her every night. Continues with Monty silently scuffling into the workshop and plopping down opposite her with his lunch. Progresses further as he begins to speak with her a week later of silent eating.

 

(Okay, so maybe Raven glared at him a lot, but he never left, and now Miller sits by him for lunch.)

 

Gossip and bad jokes also slowly crawls back into her life, which she’s sort of peeved about, because she didn’t really need to know about the chancellor getting it on with Kane.

 

Bellamy doesn’t make much of an appearance near her outside of their joint brooding time at the back of her tent, but when they pass each other on the rare occasion, he offers her an acknowledging nod and moves on.

 

By now, he’s been filled in on everything that’s happened since the drop ship as best as can be and he’s got a temporary job watching the under eighteens whole he heals up.

 

\---

 

"What do you know about me?"

 

"Raven Reyes, youngest Zero-G, likes explosions, Finn Collins."

 

"Forget the last one and you've got everything you need to know about me."

 

\---

 

“Tell _me_ a story,” Bellamy says one night when Raven refuses to outline anymore constellations. (He suspects she’s embarrassed that she can’t remember any more.)

 

She, to his surprise, gives a thoughtful hum before she opens her mouth and tells him about her birthday on the ark.

 

The last one she’d ever had up there.

 

It was the one with Finn and three months of oxygen disappearing and taking him with it in the blink of an eye.

 

He allows her to speak without interrupting, even though he itches to comfort her somehow. He doesn’t move to hold her hand or hug her, he wouldn’t do that and he doesn’t think she’d appreciate it.

 

Raven Reyes is as mysterious as the stars twinkling above their heads.

 

By the end, she’s glaring hard at the electric fence and scrubbing away tears furiously, like they’re memories she’s trying to push away, trying to make vanish.

 

Bellamy digs through the baggy pockets of his pants where he keeps a small flask of moonshine and offers it to her. As she drinks, he asks, “You loved him a lot, huh.”

 

She swallows one more gulp before handing it back to him and adjusting her seat. “Of course. I won’t forgive him for some of the things he’s done, but I love him for the other times.”

 

And he thinks he understands. He nods and he takes a swig.

 

“I’m sure I liked him,” he says, he lies, because he sounds like a dick from what he hears from other sources, namely Octavia.

 

Raven’s mouth tugs upwards in a genuine smile. Moments like these are treasured. She turns to him and pulls the flask away with a slosh. “You hated him. You threatened him a lot. Asked for bullets to shoot him once. Called him an idiot.”

 

Bellamy grins. “Sounds about right.”

 

“There’s Corvus,” she declares as she points at the sky, she knows the night sky like she knows her own skin.

 

“Crow in Latin.” He nods understandingly with a smirk. “Or raven. Nice one, spacewalker.”

 

She smiles.

 

\---

 

(See, she was right about the pretentious old books. 

 

He knows  _Latin_ , of course he reads pretentious old books.)

 

\---

 

He’s good at it.

 

He’s good with children.

 

She shows up to where they’ve got a tent set up as some sort of commune for anyone ranging from toddler to teenager, it’s during one of her lunch breaks, so she leaves Monty and Miller to eat at her work bench.

 

The tent is one of the bigger ones, filled to the brim with little tidbits made out of spare cloth or wooden blocks for the kids, there’s multiple seats scattered across the tent, and there’s about a group of twelve sprawled on the floor.

 

Bellamy sits with his back to the entrance, reciting a story he’d told her three nights ago with the majority of the kids listening with rapt attention, though some of their eyes stray to where she’s standing by the entrance.

 

He’s good at telling stories, so she’s not that surprised when the end comes and the bunch of kids whine and demand more.

 

Raven doesn’t know why, but she’s moving forward all of a sudden and standing next to Bellamy who finally notices her. “I’ve got one.”

 

The kids plus Bellamy look up at her in a mixture of confusion and expectation.

 

Nonetheless, the moment she starts, recognition dawns on Bellamy’s face and he’s quick to offer up his chair for her.

 

“Harry Potter. He was a kid with magic.”

 

Of course, she can barely remember the story, but she tries her best. She wonders if this is how Bellamy feels, reaching around the farthest corners of his mind just to look for the next plot point, but it’s worth it when the kids are gaping at her like she’s some sort of gift to the world.

 

She remembers when she was younger, cooped up in Finn’s bed, skimming through the first book on his scrappy pad they had on the ark since the ark couldn’t afford to print out actual copies of books.

 

“And… And there’s the house elf…”

 

“Dobby,” Bellamy supplies.

 

By the end of her break, the two of them are sat shoulder-to-shoulder retelling an abridged, crappy version of _Harry Potter_  which she's sure is littered with plot holes and she’s genuinely laughing for the longest period of time ever since the mountain.

 

He gives her a grin and says to the kids, “Say thank you to Ms. Reyes for story time!”

 

It’s repeated back to them and she makes a face. “It’s _Raven_.”

 

She leaves him to the kids with a warm feeling in her chest despite the grumpy scowl on her face.

 

\---

 

“I got moonshine,” she says in lieu of a greeting, handing over the bottle.

 

He takes two large gulps before handing it back to her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand that’s in fingerless gloves.

 

“Take it easy there, Grimm.”

 

“Getting the cast off my arm tomorrow,” he states, electing to ignore her small jibe. He’s an excellent story teller and he _knows_ _it_.

 

“That’s great.” She nudges Bellamy’s left leg, it’s still in a cast, so he sends her a glare, while she’s sure it doesn’t even hurt. “We’ll twin.”

 

Bellamy snorts and takes another swig out of the bottle.

 

\---

 

“Tell me something about the drop ship.”

 

“Hm. John Murphy wrapped a rope round your neck and shot me in the leg. We both dealt with it.”

 

\---

 

Now, Bellamy spends a lot of time glancing down at Raven’s leg that’s usually propped against the dirt in front of her.

 

She can tell he’s guilty by the way he swallows the lump in his throat and his eyes rapidly opt to staring at the sky.

 

“We had sex once.”

 

And that’s what makes Bellamy finally look her in the eye.

 

He offers her a small smile and she maintains eye contact until he turns back to the sky to locate Corvus, this time his shoulders are relaxed and the smile stays on his face.

 

\---

 

After that, he seems to reign in whatever emotions he feels for a past he can’t remember, subsequently stopping the guilty sidelong peeking at her leg. She’s grateful for it.

 

“Heard of Oliver Twist?”

 

“Nope.”

 

She hands him the moonshine and he tells her a story.

 

\---

 

Soon enough, he gets the cast around his leg off too.

 

Not long after, he’s back on guard duty.

 

\---

 

He only makes it to their rendezvous twice a week.

 

The rest of the time, he nods at her from outside the gate when it’s his turn to patrol outside.

 

She’s fine with it, after all, she was doing well enough before he’d showed up that one night. Her routine switches up only a little bit, when Bellamy’s on duty she switches back to limping from the back of the tent to the fence and back again instead of staying put.

 

The cold’s mellowed a bit, so her leg doesn’t ache as much every time she so much as bends her knee.

 

On the flip side, it means that spring’s here and it brings mud. Lots and lots of goddamn mud.

 

She manages to find a large piece of sawed wood and dumps it on the ground, followed by her stool.

 

\---

 

In the end, it makes it harder to pace and it gets soggy, so she tosses it away and makes do.

 

\---

 

It’s been a while since the last time Bellamy had dropped by.

 

She doesn’t care all that much, but she does smile when he greets her for the first time in two weeks with, “You know of the _Ugly Duckling_?” and hands her a bottle that’s filled with a suspicious purple liquid.

 

“Are you trying to say something, Bellamy?”

 

Ignoring the weird colour, she takes the bottle and holds it up to her face for closer examination.

 

He chuckles at her actions, gently prying the bottle away and twisting the cap off for her. “It’s juice.”

 

“I like alcohol better.”

 

“Your liver doesn’t.”

 

She drinks the juice instead of replying, and she conveniently forgets to mention that she might think the juice is better than the weird moonshine supply that Monty’s never running out of.

 

\---

 

Imagine her surprise when a week later, she finds Bellamy lounging in her seat opposite Monty and Miller.

 

They’re all laughing at something and she’s reminded again how young they all are. Unrelenting world alright.

 

“Raven, you won’t believe what happened today,” Monty calls to her.

 

She lets a grun stretch across her lips as she walks over. “Yeah?”

 

\---

 

One night, when the mud behind her tent is just fucking ridiculous, she’s surprised her tent hasn’t sagged down on top of her, she decides not to sit outside.

 

The stars will be there for her tomorrow.

 

\---

 

She doesn’t go tomorrow either.

 

\---

 

The next day, Bellamy peers through the entryway.

 

He makes himself at home on the opposite end of her bed, ignoring her unamused look.

 

“Yes. You may enter my tent. I am giving you express permission to walk in.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

She quirks an eyebrow in challenge, but is embarrassingly quick to accept the truce that’s offered in the form of a flask of moonshine.

 

Bellamy examines her as she swallows a quarter of the flask – to be fair, it isn’t that big.

 

She eventually hands the flash back. “Stop staring at me.”

 

“I’ve got no stars to stare at.”

 

And she throws the nearest thing at him, which turns out to be a small screwdriver which he deflects easily.

 

“That was fucking bad.”

 

He only smiles.

 

\---

 

They don’t speak about it later, but Bellamy recounts a tale he hears from someone else about a guy who expertly avoided a Grounder trap, only to fall down a hill, break a few bones, and knock his memories right out of his head.

 

They don’t speak about it later, but Raven falls asleep to his story as it comes to an end.

 

\---

 

 

Octavia and Lincoln occasionally drop by for lunch, making it harder to fit everyone around her greasy tools, but they manage and it’s pretty nice.

 

Once or twice, Octavia demands her presence for breakfast, but she keeps dinners mostly to herself.

 

Bellamy makes time to drop in during lunch and when he can, he shows up at her tent with his own dinner and ‘once upon a time’s on the tip of his tongue.

 

\---

 

Days pass quicker.

 

Spring whizzes by in a flurry of loud gossiping sessions over lunch and late night story sharing under the comfort of Raven’s tent.

 

\---

 

Once, Bellamy dozes off a few seconds after Raven.

 

He leaves in the morning, still half-asleep, but content, because the first thing he sees in the morning is Raven snapping her fingers right in his face and telling him to "wake the fuck up and go to work."

 

\---

 

When summer pushes spring away, it brings bright sunlight and more people milling outdoors, she tucks her stool under her arm for the first time in a while and rounds the back of her tent.

  

Bellamy comes an hour later, bottle of moonshine in hand.

 

He’s got a scruff on his face and Raven makes fun of it endlessly, because he sort of looks like a younger version of Kane with a beard.

 

(He scoffs, but the next time she sees him, his face is cleanly shaven.)

 

\---

 

Raven still points out the random constellation painted across space for Bellamy and he still spouts a story off the top of his head for her.

 

Then, when a comfortable silence lays upon them, he asks, “What was Finn like?”

 

She tenses and everything suddenly feels stiff.

 

“He was my idiot ex-boyfriend,” is what she finally says. It’s harsh and it ends the conversation right there, but Bellamy nods and lets it go with the smallest hint of a smile.

 

Then, Raven snorts and just stretches over to clamp her hand onto Bellamy’s shirt.

 

She yanks him closer, their noses inches away.

 

Bellamy gives her a shit eating grin.

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

“You are too,” he replies easily, and she closes the distance.

 

For the first time, they leave their stools outside.

 

\---

 

Raven is the first to leave again.

 

Not because she can’t feel anything anymore and not because she wants to run away.

 

\---

 

They still eat lunch together, but they have their friends to use as a buffer.

 

He asks when everyone starts to leave, “Was this like the first time that happened?”

 

“You don’t even remember the first time,” she replies.

 

"That's why I'm asking."

 

She bores into his eyes and refuses to look away until he does.

 

Bellamy doesn’t show any signs of frustration or anger, he just nods and gives her a smile before he leaves, following after a smirking Octavia.

 

\---

 

Night comes late during the summer, she has her dinner outside while the sun sinks behind her and the stars slowly blink awake.

 

Orion is there. Corvus too. All of it.

 

Nothing has changed.

 

Except Raven sort of feels happiness again.

 

She feels it when she’s cracking jokes about Lincoln to Octavia who tries to be exasperated.

 

She feels it when Monty and Miller are bickering loudly like an elderly couple over contradicting bits of gossip.

 

She feels it when her head is filled with old tales and patterns that fit with the night sky.

 

Honestly, she doesn’t mind it.

 

So when Bellamy walks up to her with his stool in his hands, she smiles at him.

 

All of a sudden, he remembers something from two seasons ago and he says, “Y’know about Orion’s?”

 

She replies with, “Sure. I know Orion’s.”

 

\---

 

Raven Reyes loses herself and Bellamy Blake loses memories. Times pass, things get better.

 

It’s the story she shares one lunch time with Bellamy by her side to the children that remembers her as the ‘Wizard Girl.’

 

She figures it’s better than ‘Dobby,’ which they give to Bellamy.

 

\---

 

“Asshole,” she tacks on.

 

Bellamy grins and Raven does too as she shapes an hour glass in the sky.

 

\---

 

Bellamy Blake has memory loss.

 

Raven Reyes starts feeling again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please, please, please point out anything wrong with this! 
> 
> i had written out a first draft that was lost due to a computer issue, so i had to retype this as fast as possible, so this thing is riddled with issues. also, this is the first time writing for the 100 and its been a while since i last watched it, so my characterization may have been off. 
> 
> again please leave me feedback if you can and thank you!
> 
> tumblr: portiallin


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